Trying To Include A Deceased Parent In Our Holiday Rituals Is Opening Old Wounds

84231669My father passed away before I had my children. You could describe our relationship as “tumultuous” at best – downright aggressive and angry at worst. I’m sure I’m not the only person who would tell you that death allows you to see a person with new eyes. I want my children to have stories about their grandfather – I want them to “know” him as best they can. How do I incorporate a father I didn’t get along with when he was living into our family rituals now? It’s something I’ve been struggling with this year.

My father and I very much had a love-hate relationship. I was twelve when my mother and sister went away to celebrate my sister’s graduation from high school and my father saw his window of opportunity. He packed his stuff and left. He was so anxious to get out the door, he sort of forgot that he was leaving his 12-year-old daughter alone in the house for the rest of the week.

We were buddies before this happened. We joked, we laughed, we played video games – I was too young to feel the brunt of the discipline that my sister felt as a high school student. When he left – I was scared, angry and baffled. Being that I was twelve and not understanding the intricasies of adult relationships, I thought it was my fault. I didn’t tell my family about his absence for years – I just let them believe he left the day that they returned. My father leaving was the first and worst disappointment of my life. It would taint our relationship until the day he died.

I didn’t have the luxury of grandparents when I was growing up. My mom’s parents died when I was very young, and my father’s were not close to our family. I always wished I had a grandma or grandpa – from what I saw of their involvement in my friends’ lives – grandmas and grandpas were awesome.

We moved to Florida during my second pregnancy – and although my first child has always been close to his grandma – he worships her now. There’s something about having her here day in and day out that is so special. He calls for her when he gets hurt. He asks to go to her when he can’t fall asleep at night. I love that. I love it even more because it’s something I never had and always wanted. I was told a few anecdotes about my deceased grandparents when I was a child – but not enough to make me feel close to them. I want my son to feel close to the grandfather he looks – and acts – so much like.

My intense love for my father and the intense disappointment and anger I felt towards him for the majority of my life are really making it hard for me to figure out what his narrative will be. What stories will I tell my children? I want them to feel close to him – so do I tell them all the ways that he was wonderful when they are children – only to disappoint them with the truth when they get older? How do I even broach this subject?

My father was a very intimidating character. He was a six-foot-four Italian man who rarely smiled. He was moody as hell. He was also the smartest man I’ve ever known, completely self-made and hilarious. The craziest thing is – my son looks exactly like him. His curly hair, his long limbs, his baby belly and his brooding face make him a little clone of the grandfather who would have loved him. Is it honest for me to raise my son with the tales of my father at his best and eliminate all traces of the man he really was – of the trauma he caused in my life? And if not – when does “kind of shitty grandpa” appear in this narrative? When my kids are in middle school? High school? College? What am I supposed to do here?

I guess I am torn about this because I feel like I come from a family with a lot of secrets. It’s always boggled my mind that I couldn’t get to the bottom of some very important events that happened in our family history. Big stuff. Big, fucked up stuff. For example, I had no idea until I was in my thirties that one of my aunts had abandoned her two of her small children when she became unhappy in her marriage. She took her infant – and moved from New York to California to start a new life. What? Both my father and my mother had brothers who died in really suspect situations. All I know about the death of my favorite uncle is that they found his body in the East River in New York City. Again, what? I want my children to know the story of their family – however imperfect it is. Not go into middle age with a bunch of unanswered questions, like myself.

So, as you can see – the holidays are opening some old wounds. I want my father to be present in the lives of my children – even though he’s not here anymore. But I also want them to eventually get an idea of the man that he was so that they will really know their mother. How do I do this? I guess it’s something I won’t have to worry about for a while since they are so small; it’s going to be years before they even come close to being able to understand the complications of family dynamics. For the time being – I’ll just feed them his lasagna recipe and talk to them about his love of chocolate. It’s all I can really muster around the holidays, anyway.

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